Flight of the Perseus Jackson
by TeslaThemedWriter
Summary: "Pranking someone had never been one of my strong points. In fact, I doubt it'll ever be. I was wrong." Percy Jackson has just been selected by the God of Messengers, Thieves and Pranksters that is Hermes to be his champion in carrying out an ancient tradition of utmost importance. Why does it always have to be Percy?
1. Chapter 1

Pranking someone had never been one of my strong points.

In fact, I doubt it'll ever be.

I was wrong.

First of all, I, as a person, a demigod and Annabeth's boyfriend, have never been one to brag. I'm not some attention hog who loves it when people praise me for my past exploits... which may include having saved the world once, just saying. However, I do believe that me, of all people, deserve the right of free speech. Therefore, I can say with such certainty that it was I who had gone through much more Minotaur dung throughout my teenage years than most other people throughout their whole lifetime. Looking back now, it was funny - almost ridiculous in fact - how each year I was deliberately plunged into all sorts of quests, challenges and dangers without my consent. And each time - despite how unfair the given situations were - I always somehow pull through. I did so trying my best not to complain, but to instead accept that this is how I'm supposed to live my life. The life of a demigod.

Now here's the funny part: I've indeed made my peace with it. With my demigod life. The fact that I or anyone of my loved ones could die anytime today, tomorrow or next week - I've accepted it all... until one day, all of a sudden, I simply couldn't.

It was as if my body refused to let me cheer myself up. I ended up becoming so gloomy and so negative that I had trouble holding a conversation with just about anybody - much less seeing them. So I avoided people to allow myself to sort things out, with the hope that I'd eventually feel better.

It got worse.

A sudden migraine kept me moody constantly. I lost interest in everything and this made my senses so dull I couldn't tell if I was awake or dreaming. Mind you this went on for about three days.

And through it all, the only thing my mind allowed me to think about was this: how hard it was for me.

I mean, I don't want to sound rude or selfish, I really don't. I'm pretty sure everyone else had it tough too. Annabeth and her family, Luke and his dad, Grover with his job, Frank with his ancestry? Hazel with her uhh... age, just to name a few.

However, I couldn't help it. It was like someone was _trying_ to make me think that way. And then I'd start to loath myself for it. Okay, so I had travelled to the underworld, survived, and made my way back (more than once, just saying) but so what? Fought with the Gods (both physically, verbally and on multiple occasions, just saying) but so what? Many demigods before me had already done that. And it wasn't like I did it alone. I had my friends with me through it all. My point being the things I had achieved - or at least most of it - had already been achieved by someone else. I've been struck by the sudden realization that perhaps I didn't go through as much Minotaur dung as the demigods of the past, as much as I thought I'd been through. In fact, I've got it pretty good if I saw things from a different perspective. I mean, hey, I still got my girlfriend, my mom and step dad, my friends - or most of them at least - and my home, camp Halfblood!

So to put it in the most nicest way possible, what in Zeus' good name was happening to me?

Little did I know that the answer to that question came to me on one cold Saturday morning when the God of Messengers, Thieves and Pranksters, that is Hermes paid my cabin a simple visit.

Of course. It just had to be Luke's dad.

"Hey Percy! C'mon, wake up," the God insisted, lightly tapping my forehead with his symbol of power, his caduceus. It also held the two intertwined snakes George and Martha.

Instinctively, my fingers found it's way towards riptide, uncapping it just as my body shot straight up. In less than a second, I had the faintly glowing celestial bronze blade gently pressed against Hermes' neck.

"Woah there tiger," Hermes smiled, both his hands raised up. "No need to freak out, it's just me."

I squinted hard, my brain still half awake. It really was Hermes but that didn't mean I'd lower my sword. Usually, when a God personally wakes you up, that rarely meant he was just being considerate and didn't want you to miss breakfast. Hermes definitely has a hidden agenda.

"What do you want?" I questioned, rubbing the last bit of sleep off my eyes.

"Relax, Jackson, yeesh," Hermes said, still smiling. He held riptide by the tip with his thumb and forefinger and guided the glowing blade away from his neck. "Much better. Look I come in peace, okay?"

I capped Riptide again, turning it back into a harmless ball-point pen.

"And I'm supposed to just trust you? After what you did to Luke?"

For a moment, Hermes looked as if he was going to obliterate me on the spot. But just for a moment.

Hermes sighed. "You're never going to let that go, aren't you?"

"Probably not."

"Guess I deserve this. I owe you that much anyway."

"Again, just what are you doing here?"

He snapped his fingers and immediately, a chair - the type used by directors when filming movies - materialized from out of nowhere. He promptly sat on it before shifting his focus back onto me. "Look, Percy. I need your help."

And here I thought that today was gonna be boring.

He continued. "I trust that you've been uhh... feeling rather odd lately?"

My eyes widened as I heard his statement. Could it be? Is that why I've been having such weird thoughts recently?

"I'm just guessing here but, have you been influencing my thoughts?" I questioned, my brows furrowed as I glared hard at him. I, for one, do not like my thoughts being messed with.

Hermes forced a smile. "You got me. Yes, Percy I have been influencing your thoughts but not for the wrong reasons. Think of it as a sort of forewarning, I simply added more philosophical flare. You see, the fates have chosen you to become my champion."

"And I'm guessing again that I don't have a choice in any of this, do I?"

"You've learnt well, young demigod. No, you do not have a choice in this. Unless, of course, you favour being turned into a snake over fulfilling my simple task."

"No thanks, I'm quite satisfied with being human."

"Good. That's means you've indirectly agreed to this."

"Like I said, I don't have a choice."

"Of course you don't. Now, show me your right palm."

I sighed. "No heads-up? Not even a clue? Heck, even a prophecy would do."

Hermes gave a hearty laugh, as if implying how foolish my question was. "Funny, Percy. Look, you agreed without first asking what this is about so - the way I see it - it's your fault. Now you don't get to ask. I'll only tell once I've tied the knot. Your palm, please."

I groaned. I hated how the Gods always seemed to treat us demigods more like servants instead of their own children. "I'm gonna assume no one would get hurt from this."

"Oh trust me, they won't even remember this."

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Your palm, Percy. I'm getting impatient. I'm the God of Messengers for Zeus' sake and I'm personally taking time off for you."

I rolled my eyes. "Here goes."

I raised my right palm. Suddenly, I felt searing hot pain generating from under the skin of my palm. I stifled my scream as I clutched my wrist hard with my left hand - I didn't wanna wake anybody up this early in the morning.

Slowly, the pain died down. I turned my palm over to look at it. A tattoo of a completely extended caduceus - with both George and Martha ferociously intertwining it - had been engraved on the surface of my callus-ridden palm.

"Wow," I muttered.

"Good. Now that we're done with the contract, this is what you're going to help me with. You see, every decade, the fates pick one champion to carry out this tradition of mine. Since I've been busy with the ever increasing workload of sending and receiving messages, I've been really slacking off in the prank department. And that's where you come in. I want you to carry out my pranks right here in camp Half-Blood . Got all that?"

"Wow," I muttered again, this time in disbelief.

"Good. Now, of course, there are rules. No one - absolutely no one - can know that you're acting on my behalf."

"Wait, so I have to take the heat for the things you're gonna make me do?"

"Exactly," Hermes smiled.

"No, wait-"

"Ah, ah," Hermes interrupted me. "Let me finish. You're going to wear a mask when you carry out my will. That would be the only thing protecting your identity, Percy, so I stress the fact that you should avoid getting caught. But don't worry if you do because for three days, you are going to do everything I tell you. At the end of the third day, as in when the clock strikes twelve, everyone but you - and those who are really resistant to divine magic - will forget everything that you did during those three days."

"Are you serious. You're not joking, right? I'm not on that reality TV show that Haephaestus runs for the entertainment of the Gods, am I?"

"Oh, I'm serious. The one who's going to do all the joking here is you, Mr. Jackson. Well then, don't fail me."

In a cloud of smoke, Hermes vanished from plain sight, leaving me coughing and wheezing and completely mortified. Sure I could fool monsters, Gods, even enemy demigods if the situation calls for it. But my own demigods? The demigods I'd lay my life down for? No. Never. I've been tricked!

Okay, so maybe the pranks won't be that bad. I mean, Hermes is practically ancient so his version of pranks should be something like putting a bug into someone else's sleeping bag, right?

I looked at the chair in front of me. Hermes probably left it there on purpose because on it laid a smooth shiny silver mask devoid of any designs whatsoever and a letter. I picked the letter up and read it. It said:

You are to pay a little visit to a Miss Clarisse La Rue. She will be in the midst of training at the training grounds alone from exactly 0600 to 0800. During that time span, she will require fluids. Switch her water bottle for a bottle of Satyr urine (provide. Check under the bed Percy). Once she tastes it, she will most likely spit it out, realized she's been duped, probably scream the words "WHO DID THIS!?". As she does that, dump a bucket of black oil all over her (provided. Check the back of your cabin Percy) while simultaneously throwing chicken feathers (provided. Check the back of your cabin Percy) everywhere, screaming the words "Who's the chicken? You are!" in a voice different than the one you use for holding conversations (because, you know, you don't wanna get caught, right?"). Failure to accomplish this will result in you turning into a snake (check your right palm Percy).

I was wrong. So wrong. Hermes' version of pranks was definitely not ancient. And as much as I'd like to see this prank in action, I'd much rather watch it from a safe distance. Instead, I'm being forced to carry it out myself.

On the cupboard next to my bed, I checked the watch Tyson gave me. It showed: 0545. Great! Just great. Fifteen minutes to get ready. Fifteen more minutes until Clarisse - of all people - turns into a chicken, literally. Fifteen more minutes until I - if I do happen to get caught - turn into fried chicken. And if I choose to not do it at all, then I get turned into a snake. That there is a prime example of how logical the Gods can get.

How do I always get myself into situations like these?

Unwillingly and with much contempt, I got myself out of bed. I headed over towards my closet, picking out clothes I've rarely, or better yet, never worn during my time here in camp Half-Blood. After I was done with that, I checked under my bed and found the bottle of satyr urine. Go figure. I put on the mask and headed outside, making sure to get the bag of feathers and bucket of oil first.

It scared me how calm I was with doing all of this. I guess this is what happens when you've done one too many quests.

It was still pretty early at the camp. Not much campers were up during these hours so sneaking around wasn't all that hard. There were the occasional nymphs that stuck their heads from out of the comfort of their tree or lake or whatever because they were curious at who this mysterious masked weirdo carrying a bottle of satyr urine, a bucket of oil and a bag of feathers was. I tried my best to ignore them.

I passed the Dinning Pavilion, and from there, headed straight until I reached the open air training grounds, making sure to stick closer towards the light foliage that littered the sides of the main road for cover. As I arrived, I could hear the battle cries of none other than Clarisse who was busy beating up a straw doll with her bare fists. The God was right about everything, I thought, not very surprised.

The daughter of Ares was big, bulky and she definitely looked angry. Her stringy light brown hair had been tied in a ponytail and it swung 360 degrees every time she slugged punches at the straw doll. It looked like she had been trying to improve on her hand-to-hand combat. I didn't know why but for a moment, I imagined that scene again in my head but only this time, instead of the straw doll, it was me who was getting beaten up. As she bellowed war cries after war cries, I quickly ran behind a bale of haystack as she wasn't looking, keeping my head down while I kept my eye out for Clarisse's bottle.

Then I saw it. I saw her water bottle placed on the ground just a few meters behind her. I figured this was my chance as Clarisse had the straw doll in a head-lock. That meant she couldn't turn back or anything. So I snuck towards the bottle, poured the water out onto the grass, thought to myself for a moment just what on Gaia was I doing, then proceeded to replace it with satyr urine. I placed it down and ducked behind a closer haystack - one that ensured I was close enough to finish the prank.

All the while I was actually smiling. I could feel the adrenaline - the same feeling I got from facing monsters - coursing through my veins. This felt so wrong yet so right at the same time.

Sure enough, after about half an hour, even Clarisse got tired from punching, clawing, head-locking and cursing in Greek at an inanimate straw doll that I couldn't help but pity. She made her way towards her water bottle.

Suddenly, everything around me seemed to slow down. I could feel myself shaking from a myriad of emotions. My eyes blinked constantly, trying to stop the beads of sweat from entering it, and my teeth chattered from the cold morning air as well as to the impending events that were to come.

Then she did it. In slow-mo, I saw it all. How she took large gulps thinking it was water. How her eyes bulged out as soon as she tasted it. As soon as she realized it. How she spat it out and and threw the bottle away bellowing, "WHO DID THIS!?"

My body sprang right into action, grabbing the bucket of oil and pouring it all over her while simultaneously throwing the chicken feathers around, yelling, "Who's the chicken? You are!" In a very high pitched ventriloquist-like voice.

Clarisse's expression was one of pure confusion. She looked awestruck and completely flabbergasted - her eyes still bulging and her tongue hanging out. She looked even more ridiculous with the oil and feathers coating her.

The whole thing took like five seconds and the only reason Clarisse couldn't get her hands on me was because she was too busy scratching her tongue in a vain attempt to get rid of the taste of satyr urine. That and that she also slipped on the oil, giving me enough time to scramble myself away from there as fast as possible, hearing her scream, shriek and roar all at the same time as I made a break for my cabin.

I managed to enter my cabin just as everyone else had been leaving theirs. I don't think anyone saw me - whilst in the masked man persona - enter the Poseidon cabin but just in case, I took the mask off and hid it deep under my bed where nobody would find it. As for the bucket, I filled it with seawater from the fountain installed in my room and placed it in a corner, coming up with a thousand excuses I could use in case anyone ever asked. Finally, I took the bag and stuffed it in my closet with all the other junk I had collected from my quests. Then I hastily changed my clothes and lay myself down on my bed, still completely stunned at the events that had transpired.

I, Percy Jackson, son of the Sea God, had just successfully pranked Clarisse La Rue, daughter of the War God.

And to be honest, I only felt a little bit guilty.


	2. Chapter 2

Oddly, the sun appeared inexplicably mellow on such a hectic day. The Dining Pavilion that was usually filled with loud chatter and ceaseless laughter fell quiet at the behest of both Clarisse and Chiron - the former threatening to punch the heck out of whomever laughs at her outwardly... appearance. Chiron, however, insisted we all stay quiet because he needed Clarisse to carefully explain just what had happened to her. Ever the father-like figure, he listened attentively at every detail of Clarisse's version of what had happened. And I say "Clarisse's version" because although she was instructed by Chiron to tell him exactly what had transpired, she instead opted to save what was left of her crumbling pride by telling him everything but her drinking satyr piss. Typical Clarisse.

"So that insignificant Greek insect snuck up behind me just as I had the straw dummy I was practicing with in a headlock. That's when he threw the oil, " Clarisse explained, her eyes still stained with rage and anger. "And it caught me off guard so I was in a daze, ya' see, and that person took advantage of it."

"So that explains the the feathers?" Chiron cut her off. He had one eye brow up and his lips pouted.

Clarisse blushed. "Yeah. Greek insect flung a bag of feathers all around me - wanted to make me look like a chicken probably."

Stifled giggles could be heard from all around her. I would've laughed too if I weren't so nervous about getting caught.

On the other hand, Clarisse looked as if she was ready to take on the whole camp but Chiron stopped her. He also raised a hand to warn the campers about his punishments should they disobey him.

Once more, the Dining Pavilion fell silent.

"Is there any way you can describe this person?" Chiron inquired.

Clarisse scratched her head. "I think this person's a female camper."

"Female?"

"Yeah, I heard her voice. It was _kinda_ squeaky but don't take my word for it 'cause I was uhh... caught off guard."

Chiron gave this suspicious look. You see, Clarisse was a warrior, and by nature, warriors found it hard to lie to their superiors. In Clarisse's case, she found it hard to lie to Chiron and he was well aware of that fact.

"So what did she say?" Chiron asked.

Clarisse cleared her throat. "She called me a chicken," she quietly mumbled.

Again, all around her the campers started giggling like little girls. Likewise, I remained quiet. I simply sat there all alone on the Poseidon table wearing my best poker face and feeling relieved that she suspected female campers and not the male ones.

Chiron massaged his temple. He looked distressed.

"Okay. Okay," he urged the campers to quiet down. Then he turned to Clarisse and said, "Let's get you cleaned up first. Could someone please escort her to the Ares cabin."

Some of the Ares children immediately got up to assist her. Clarisse looked hesitant for just a moment before letting them touch her - as if saying _nah, it can't possibly be one of my own siblings._

And in turn, Chiron - deep in thought - headed for the Big House without saying a word, leaving the campers to finish their breakfast. When he was out of sight, the merriment and and joyful atmosphere that usually accompanied the Dining Pavilion returned, albeit boosted even more by the talk of Clarisse's misfortune. Notably, Connor and Travis at the Hermes table couldn't stop laughing and making fun of the war God's daughter behind her back.

I finished my breakfast of ham, bread and cheese and left the pavilion for my cabin. Subconsciously, I didn't even realized the fact that I was avoiding just about everyone as I made my way back. I was still far too jittery from the events of earlier this morning.

"Percy!" Annabeth called from behind me.

I flinched from the sudden shock of hearing my name being called. I steadied myself before I turned to face her. Whatever the cost, I absolutely cannot let Annabeth find out. Especially Annabeth.

"Annabeth!" I smiled awkwardly, secretly mentally giving myself a fact palm for the sort of awkward start to our conversation.

She softly pecked my left cheek with her puckered lips. I blushed a little, almost forgetting the situation I was in.

"Okay," she started, her grey eyes full of wonder. "Listen. A long time ago, I overhead something Chiron and Dionysus once said while they were arguing."

"What were they arguing about?" I asked.

"About who could party better but that's not the important bit. Eventually, the topic changed to who the better prankster was... "

I gulped. I didn't know which was scarier - the fact that Annabeth always seemed to know what was up or the fact that Chiron and Dionysus once had an argument on who the better party animal was.

"... And of course, Hermes' name was mentioned."

I tried blinking back the horror that was swelling up in me. Okay, so she's talking about Hermes now - the same Hermes who tricked me into accepting this stupid quest. But that doesn't mean she knows about it. Didn't Hermes say everyone would forget everything after this was all over? Or perhaps she really did forget but was reminded again by Chiron's and Dionysus' "argument".

"Apparently, there's this rumor, Percy."

Oh boy.

"When Zeus punished Dionysus and sent him here, Hermes - ever the prankster - cursed this place. The God cursed camp Halfblood for whatever reason and I want to find out why. As of now, I don't quite fully understand much of the details because this was about all of the information I could eavesdrop from the two but judging from what happened to Clarisse, I'm pretty sure it has something to do with pranks," Annabeth finally finished.

I stood there completely amazed at Annabeth's... knowledge. As a child of Athena, her thirst for answers was second to none and that meant bad news for a seaweed brain like me. So like every other Percy who has an extremely smart Annabeth for a girlfriend, I did the most Percy-like thing possible - I tried to dissuade her from fulfilling her curiosity.

"Look, Annabeth," I started, "instead of tackling all sorts of mysteries like you usually do, why don't you try something new for a change?"

Annabeth stared blankly at me. "I don't quite follow."

"You know," I started again. "Learn something new. You might find something you like..."

"Percy," Annabeth interrupted. "I love mysteries and I love solving things. I also love architecture, designing and... well... you I guess."

She blushed heavily.

I couldn't help but smirk like crazy. "What was that last part? Couldn't quite hear it."

She punched me in the arm.

"Look. I've already been tasked with designing the new Olympus. And I'm taking a break now to do the other things that I love, not to find more things to do. So I'm *going* to solve this mystery even if it kills me!"

I smiled. "Headstrong as ever huh? Good luck then."

I was smiling but secretly inside I wanted to cry. My quest just became that much harder to hide - and believe me, I was told to hide it lest I wanted to be turned into a snake.

"You're not gonna help me?" she asked innocently, her grey puppy dog eyes staring deep into my soul.

"Uhh no, busy with hero stuff, you know," I answered coolly. "Catch you later."

I hastily gave her a peck in the cheek, turned tail and ran all the way back to my cabin.

"One more thing Percy!" she called out after me. "Frank and Hazel are coming to visit!"

I pretended as if I couldn't hear her. The last thing I needed right now was more people to enter the camp.


End file.
